


A Beginning's Guide to Mountaineering (Everest Remix)

by SilentSiren47 (Valonia)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-14
Updated: 2007-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valonia/pseuds/SilentSiren47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia likes surgeons. Even the female ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beginning's Guide to Mountaineering (Everest Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Beginner's Guide to Mountaineering](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/6177) by ijemanja. 



Olivia wonders if anyone really knows her at all. Does anyone think about her after she's left a room, or does she just fade from their minds like last year's dreams? She knows every person's name on the surgical floor. She knows their personalities, their habits, their foibles. And she knows what they look like when they come.

Not all of them, of course, not even close. But enough to know that surgeons aren't totally the same, but mostly they are. Because George and Alex are almost opposites in things like writing orders or interacting with staff, but they both bite their lips a little when they come, and both heave a grandiose sigh afterward.

The women, though, the female doctors, they're something different altogether. The ones like Yang are the easiest, who have already made their choices and distinctions. They are not nurses, and you are, and you are there to do what they say. It's the ones that think they should be your friend, that you share some common bond beyond breasts and a menstrual cycle, those are the ones that are hardest to deal with. Because that other doctor, the Yang side, will always come raging out when you least expect it. They're not your friends. Doctors and nurses aren't friends. Not friends, but sometimes lovers. It's been that way since the first hospital opened, probably, and it'll stay that way long after Seattle Grace becomes a pile of rubble.

Dr. Stevens, Izzie, she would be the second type, the eventually backstabber, if it wasn't for George. Because of George, she placed herself neatly in the category of Doctor over Nurse, at least when it came to Olivia. And so Olivia smiles when she sees Stevens at the bar with her beer. She's alone, and Olivia knows exactly who she is. She knows this girl who thinks she's lost everything, but who still hasn't changed. Still a doctor, still a surgeon, still angry, but without the incentive to hide it with a sunny smile.

Olivia knows the other interns aren't going to make it to the bar, not tonight. And so she smiles at Izzie's cutting remarks, which shave close but don't draw blood. She quips and challenges her to a game of darts, letting her hands drift over Izzie as she corrects her stance, her aim, her grip. Until Olivia knows Izzie has had enough of both the games they're playing.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she says, ultra casual, because Izzie knows what's what.

When Izzie enters the bathroom, Olivia pulls her into a stall and runs her fingers through her hair. She can't resist kissing her, and she indulges the teenager inside who used to cut out pictures of models to paste on her bedroom mirror. Olivia saw the Bethany Whisper campaign the same as everyone else. She stole one of the photocopies off the locker room door when no one was looking. She knows she's not the only one.

Izzie groans, dark and deep, and Olivia pulls up her shirt. Not a Bethany Whisper bra, but close enough, with lace and frills. She rubs Izzie through her jeans and brings out another moan. Before Olivia even starts to get worked up, Izzie comes. Izzie gives her this look, like she's really seeing Olivia for the first time. Olivia ducks out of the stall to escape that gaze.

They go to Olivia's apartment. Olivia looks around, seeing what Izzie must see. It's small, with little girly touches everywhere, framed photos of flowers and potpourri on the coffee table. Izzie studies the walls. She wanders into the kitchen.

"You can tell a lot about a person from their kitchen," she murmurs to Olivia.

"There's not much to see in mine." Olivia is nervous, now, in a way she wasn't in the bar. She's brought plenty of people here, but no one ever looked around so carefully. No one ever examined her kitchen, for goodness sake.

She sees an easy solution and opens the refrigerator to pull out two beers. She hands one to Izzie and drinks her own as fast as she can. Too fast, after the drinks at Joe's, and she pulls a chair out from the table and sits down. Izzie is holding her beer, but it's still capped, and she starts to open a drawer.

She seems lost in thought, and Olivia wonders what she's thinking. Olivia's own thoughts are racing, and she tilts her head, sitting quickly upright when she starts to get dizzy. Dizzy from Izzie, she thinks, and she snorts a little. Izzie gives her a questioning look.

"We should go to the bedroom," Olivia says, and she doesn't mean for it to be a question, but it comes out as one.

"Okay."

Izzie sheds her jeans as she follows Olivia into the bedroom. She's lost almost all of her clothing by the time she sits on the edge of the bed. Olivia kisses her again, but it's soft this time. The power and assurance Olivia had at the bar are gone, like those things belong to Izzie now. It's Izzie's turn to be in control, and Olivia can't do anything except moan and say, "Yes, yes, please." Izzie's not one of the boys at the hospital, and she doesn't act like one in bed. She touches Olivia like she knows every spot that aches to be touched.

When Olivia catches her breath, she sees Izzie looking at her, and maybe Izzie knows her now, really knows her, not as Nurse Olivia, but as something more. But maybe not, because when Olivia closes her eyes against that gaze and pretends to sleep, Izzie lets her be. She moves to her own side of the bed and Olivia hears her breathing slow. She turns to look, and sees blonde hair messy on the pillow, a sheet covering only half of Izzie's body.

She's gone in the morning, of course. More than anything else, Izzie's a surgeon. Surgeons never stay for breakfast.


End file.
